Path Of The Lost
by Ca11umism
Summary: Nearly three hundred years before the rise of Darth Bane, a child with an unbelievable connection to the force is discovered, taken from his family, and trained by the Sith in order to destroy the jedi order. But, when a disturbing vision invades his mind, he second guesses his allegiance and seeks to bring balance to the galaxy.
1. Prologue

_A long time ago, in a Galaxy far away..._

**STAR WARS: THE OLD REPUBLIC-PATH OF THE LOST**

**PROLOGUE:**

The two blades hissed and buzzed as their wielder's danced majestically around each other. One crimson red, the other bluer than the sky on Alderaan, they lit up the dim hallway, illuminating the two figures in the process. The first was clad in a floor length black robe, it's deep hood up and covering most of the combatant's face, apart from their chin, which was tattooed with various black tribal symbols. The other, clearly a member of the jedi order, wore a suit of ivory coloured armour over a pale brown tunic, the sigil of holy order of the jedi knights emblazoned on his breast. They Both stood in low combat stances, their lightsabers poised and at the ready, each waiting for the other to make the next move, careful not to make a faulty step that their opponent could take advantage of.

Outside, they could hear the various sounds of war. Blaster fire and explosions, the swoop of personal fighters gliding in and out on attack runs, and the screams of the innocent, begging for mercy as their homeworld burned.

But that wasn't the focus of the two duelists at the moment. That second, they had to focus entirely on each other, as each knew that the other could, and would, end their life without a second thought, the jedi out of duty, and the hooded figure out of hate.

"Attack me Sith," the jedi called out after a moment, a little frustration in his otherwise serene voice. "Attack me and learn the true consequences for your actions."

The Sith didn't answer, instead, the figure just flourished it's crimson saber, a large circle that left a blood red track in the space between them, which disappeared as quickly as it was a sign of disrespect, or at least that's the way the jedi took it, and, in a moment of weakness brought on by the sith's mocking, the jedi knight leapt the ten feet between himself and his opponent, swinging his dark blue blade in a wide arc, with intentions to take the Sith's head off.

The Sith met his strike with it's own blade, in what looked like an almost effortless parry, sending the jedi spinning backward in brief retreat, before coming in once again. This time, the Sith parried the Jedi's swipe and struck back, bringing a gauntlet encased forearm into the cheek of it's assailant, the jagged edges that jutted out from it drawing a thin streak of shimmering blood from the jedi's cheek. The jedi retreated once again, this time to check his wound, though he still kept his guard. "Is that how you Sith fight?," the jedi said with a hint of disgust. "Needing to use dirty tactics to gain the upper hand?," The Sith didn't answer, instead, a faint grin appeared from beneath the hood. "Of course it is," the jedi spat. "I should have expected such deviance from the scum of the universe!"

The jedi struck again, swinging his saber behind his back to strike at the sith's right leg, then spinning on his heels and striking from the other side in an attempt at catching his opponent off guard and taking the sith's head off once more. The Sith deflected the attack with ease then pushed forward, taking on the offensive, aiming strikes that wouldn't be fatal had the Sith managed to connect. The jedi kept up with the pace though, using his connection with the force to guide his saber and keep him safe.

Jedi and Sith battled each other up and down the durasteel floored hallway, both growing wearier with each passing second. For a moment, it seemed the battle was near it's conclusion, when the jedi feinted a low strike but instead struck out at the sith with the force, which caught his enemy off guard and flung the robed figure into a energy conduit built into the hallway's silver wall. The jedi had taken this chance to finish the fight, and leapt at the sith with deadly intentions, but some how the sith managed to evade the attack, and then took on the offensive once more.

Their constant fighting dragged them from the hallway up a flight of stairs and outside into the daylight of Fondor, to a landing pad built onto the side of the building where'd they'd first encountered each other.

Though it was day, the smoke from the hundreds of grounded fighters, grenades and blaster fire of the battle fogged up the sky and left it so the jedi and sith could barely see each other. This meant that the two now had to depend on their personal connections to force to guide their blades, but also to recognise their opponent and the edges of the landing pad in the haze.

The jedi retreated across the landing pad in order to maintain his focus and syphon out the haze from his mind's eye. He lost track of the sith for a moment as he regained his focus, then sticking his blue blade out to his left side as the sith struck a heavy blow at him. In that moment, he thanked the force for his split second reflexes, knowing that if he hadn't been trained so well, he would have surely lost his head.

Rolling out of the way, he had to turn on his heels the very second he reached his feet, in order to deflect another attack from the sith. The jedi struck back, but the sith was already gone. He stood there for a moment, barely able to make out his own blade in the thick haze. The black smoke made it hard to breath, and it stung his eyes horribly, but he kept breathing in order to keep the force flow through his body, and he kept blinking to watch for any sign of his enemy's blade.

The next strike came from the left again; obviously the sith thought it could trick him by making the same movement's more than once. The jedi dived under the red blade and twirled his own saber to take out the sith's right leg, but instead of hitting flesh and bone, blue lightsaber met red as the sith brought it's own blade down to meet his. A few more heavy downward strikes came from the sith, all of which the jedi deflected, and he sprang to his feet.

This time the sith didn't try and hide from him. Instead, it came at him with full force, with wild, bludgeoning strikes that could take the head off a Bantha. The jedi kept his ground as best he could, but soon, one of the sith's strikes aimed true, and tore a foot long gash from his right shoulder down past his chest, splitting the jedi sigil on his breast in two.

He let out a scream, a wild howl which bore more resemblance to that of a dying beast than that of a man, and fell to his knee, his lightsaber extinguishing and falling to the shuttle pad, landing with the sound of steel on steel that seemed to ring out much louder than it should have, what with all the cries and blaster fire in the distance.

With blinding pain searing through his body, he looked up at the sith, who came into view as the fog slowly began to clear. It's hood was still up, but he could see the pale yellow skin of the sith's chin, black tattoo molding around it's lower lip as the sith smiled once again. "You may kill me here Sith scum," the jedi groaned,  
realising it was his time. "But know this, The dark side will only lead you to yo..."

The jedi failed to finish his last words. Instead, he fell silent as the sith drove it's saber through his chest, ending his life.

Retracting the blade from the dead jedi's body, the sith dimmed it's saber. The fog had almost evaporated by now, or risen up high enough that it wasn't a bother. Now only the sith stood on the docking platform, looking over it's fresh kill, relishing in the suffering of the jedi. After a few moments, the sith raised it's gauntlet to it's mouth and spoke.

"The high-tower has been taken, general," the voice was a woman's. High pitched and feminine, yet colder than the ice moon Hoth. "How is Lord Legus coming along?."

A second passed, then a male voice came over the comm-link, distorted by a bad signal. "Very well, Lady Maeror. Both the East and South-east sectors have been confirmed..."

"And the Western seaboards?," Maeror cut in, her voice stern and impatient.

"All units have reported in apart from one," Maeror smiled beneath her hood. That was good news, it meant that this planet was all but theirs. "But a group of jedi and some civilian's have taken refuge in a bunker."

Maeror's grin disappeared. "So?," she snapped over the comm. "Flush them out. Slaughter them!"

"We're doing our best my Lady, but they've activated a host of automated flash-cannons and other system defenses..."

"That shouldn't stop you, general Genth," Maeror cut in again.

"I..I understand my lady," Genth's voice crackled. "We're just waiting for reinforcements in order to make an attack run at the bunker."

"Do you have an estimate on the completion of your mission?"

"No, my lady."

Maeror's lip twitched beneath her hood. "Very well, send a transport to me, I'll come do your job for you," The agitated sith actiavted the homing beacon built into her gauntlet.

"As you wish, lady Maeror."

The static infused voice faded away, and Maeror turned back to look at her fresh kill. The jedi lay there, on his side, his arms limp and lying at odd angles, the colour of his eyes faded and dim. She smiled, relishing the jedi's suffering, which in turn, rejuvenated the sith. That was the power of the dark side, she though to herself. She could only think about the pain and torment she caused, and the unrelenting energy would heal her body in moments.

The lightsaber of her fallen foe lay next to his body. Reaching out with the force, she lifted it to her outstretched hand in order to examine it. It was a finely crafted saber, silver casing with a black rubber grip. The power pack magnetised to it's side was at near full charge, which the sith found intriguing. She activated it, the glimmering blue blade erupting from the hilt with the speed of a star-cruiser making the jump to hyperspace, and gave it a few short swings. It handled well.

"Jedi do have a knack for crafting lightsabers," Maeror smirked, talking to the lifeless body. "I think I'll keep this." She slid the saber under her cloak just as the sounds of a speeder came into earshot. It landed at far edge of the landing pad, and as Maeror started towards it, general Genth himself, his whispy white hair flailing in the gust created by the speeder, climbed out.

"Lady Maeror," he bowed as she approached. Maeror payed him no heed, and climbed into the speeder without saying a word until Genth tried to climb in after her. Instead, she held up a hand, telling him to stop. "Is there something wrong, my lady?" Genth asked, a puzzled look on his wrinkled face.

"Yes," she said coldly. "I'm not happy with the fact that I have to do your duty for you, Genth."

"My lady, I assure you that I was doin..." Genth's voice drifted away, and was replaced by a low, gutteral sound from deep in his throat. He grasped at his throat as his oaesophagus closed up on him, cutting off the oxygen to his lungs.

"If you cannot carry out your duties, Genth, the Sith have no use for you." Genth fell to his knees as the speeder lifted off the pad, then collapsed into a lifeless heap as Maeror speed away.

-0oo0oo0oo0oo0-

Maeror recognised the bunker far before they landed on Fondor's desert plain. The red and green blaster bolts of the sith and the Republic became visbile as soon as the speeder came over the horizon.

The closer they got, the more she managed to make out. There were three jedi, two human and one Bith. They stood in a small semi circle in front of a bunker built into Fondor's desert ground. The bunker door was only barely open, but the gap was wide enough for a good half a dozen Republic troops to fire freely. A mass of sith troopers stood less than a hundred feet from the entrance, blindly firing their blaster rifles from behind a collective of large durasteel barricades.

Maeror would have been angry with them for not charging the bunker, but there were three large flash-cannons built into the sand around the entrance way, firing round after round at the Sith.

The speeder touched down thirty feet from the rear of the sith troops. Maeror leapt out and ignited her saber, immediately deflecting a stray blaster shot from the republic troopers hiding in the bunker. As she approached the barricades, one of the commanding officers approached her. "Lady Maeror, he said, bowing. "What happened to general Genth?"

"That isn't your concern, captain Lha'," Maeror walked right past him and up to the barricade. "Gather your best troops," she said after a moment. "We're going to rush them."

Lha' opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. "As you wish, my lady." He ordered nearly two dozen troops to gather by them, then gave them their orders.

When they had all prepared, Lha' turned back to the sith lady. "On your command, my lady"

Maeror nodded. "You may attack."

The captain waved his hand, and the troops burst past the barricade towards the bunker, firing wildly at the jedi who guarded it. Within seconds, half a dozen were dead, either cut down by the flash cannons, or hit by one of their own shots, reflected by one of the three jedi. "Send more in, captain," Maeror said calmly. Lha'  
ordered another wave, and another. By the time the fifth wave entered the fray, one of the human jedi was dead, a stray blaster bolt blowing a hole in his gut. By the eighth wave, the Bith jedi was dead too, along with nearly fifty sith troops.

The last jedi fell back into the bunker. Maeror realised that they were trying to lock themselves inside. She leapt over the barricade and past the still advancing sith, using the force to accelerate her sprint to unbelievable speeds. She reached the front of the sith assault in seconds, and reached out with the force to grasp the bunker door, doing everything in her power to slow the gears and keep it from closing.

"GET INSIDE!," she growled. The sith troops sprinted past her and into the still slowly closing door way. The sounds of blaster fire and screams of women and children suddenly filled the air.

After a few ore seconds, Maeror felt the strain of the closing bunker door still, and the three flash cannons went offline. The rest of her troops left their barricade's and sprinted into the battlefield. Maeror relaxed, releasing her grip on the door, and then entered the bunker after her troops.

It was nearly pitch black inside. Smoke from the extensive blaster fire filled the air, making it hard to breath. In the back, she recognized the blue gleam of the last jedi's lightsaber as he deflected sith blaster fire away from a small group of women and children. The last few republic troops lay dead on the bunker's floor, overrun by the sith assault.

Maeror reached for her lightsaber again, and approached the jedi. She pushed through the wall of troops until only she stood in front of the jedi. "Lay down your saber, jedi," the sith said coldly. "And your death will be far less painful." The jedi gave her a grim look, then raised his blade to her. Maeror nodded. "As you wish,"

She leapt at the jedi and struck with a series of heavy, precise strikes. This jedi wasn't half as skilled with a lightsaber as the one in the high-tower, Maeror noted,  
and soon the jedi was overwhelmed. A clumsy parry by the jedi left him open for a kill stroke, and Maeror took the opportunity, ducking beneath the jedi's right arm and slicing through his flesh with ease.

The jedi collapsed in a heap on the floor, his saber landing with a clank and rolling across the bunker floor.

Maeror looked to the group of women and children huddled together at the back of the bunker, horrified looks on their faces. "Kill them," Maeror said coldly, walking through the mass of troops back towards the entrance. The group cried, pleading for mercy as the troops took aim, when a sudden blast of force energy erupted from behind Maeror. She barely had time to turn and throw up a force shield to protect herself.

The troops were blown away by the tremendous blast, knocked unconcious and scattered around the room. Maeror was relatively unharmed, and she illuminated her saber again to fight off the threat. But instead of finding another jedi, as she assumed, she found a little boy, no more than five or six, lying in the heap of survivors,  
who'd also been knocked unconcious by his exertion.

Dimming her saber, Maeror reached out with force, feeling an incredible surge of force energy within the child, who looked at her with a mix of fear, anger and hate.

"Stand," she said. The child didn't move, so she reached out with the force again, and lifted him to his feet. "Do you know who I am?" the child didn't answer. "Do you hate me for killing the jedi?" the little boy looked at her with cold blue eyes. "Good," Maeror smiled from beneath her hood. "I think the Sith will make good use of you."

-0oo0oo0oo0oo0-

_A/N: Okay, so that was the prologue, tell me if you liked it, cause if you don't I'll sneak into your house and feed you fish without you knowing. THANKS!_


	2. Chapter 1: Aestus The Angry

_Ten Years Later..._

**CHAPTER 1:**

Within her personal quarters on the bridge of the Sith dreadnaught _'Harbinger_', Darth Maeror sat calmly on her meditation mat, calling upon the darkside to rejuvenate her aching muscles and calm her weary mind.

In the confines of her own ship, she had no need to cover her head with the hood of her Sith robe, so it was off, hanging lossely down her straight back, revealing to all those who saw her a Mirialan with skin the sickly yellow colour of Dactyl, and eyes orange with the glow of the dark side within her. Her ebony hair, was fastened into a small ponytail that hung over her left shoulder, was decorated with a series of multi-coloured beads threaded into the dark strands. Perhaps the most intriguing feature though, were the tattoos embedded into the skin on her chin and cheeks. Tribal symbols of the Mirialan people, representing certain achievments and milestones the Mirialan race celebrated.

A series of short beeps broke the Sith from her trance, and she reached out slowly to activate the holo-communicator built into the console next to her meditation mat. "Lady Maeror," the hologram of General Lha' appeared on the console. "We have entered the Yavin system."

Maeror nodded to the hologram, and closed her eyes again. "Very good general. Send word to me when we reach Yavin four."

The hologram of Lha' bowed slightly, "As you wish." and faded out of focus.

Maeror gave a faint smile. Today was the day that she'd spent nearly ten years waiting for, the day that she'd collect her new apprentice from the sith training facility which hung in the atmosphere of Yavin 4, the thought of which made her grin even wider.

Ten years ago, she'd been part on an assault on the industrial planet Fondor, where she'd discovered a boy whose connection to the force was superior to both her, and her own master, Darth Legus.

She'd brought the child here to Yavin 4, and handed him over to the sith masters who ran the facility in order to train him in the darkside, as she'd hoped he'd be a powerful ally in the Sith war against the Republic and their guardians, the Sith's mortal enemies, the Jedi.

Lha' sent an escort for Maeror nearly twenty minutes later. The half-dozen troops formed a column on either side of the Sith as they lead her down to the hanger bay and into one of the Harbringer's many shuttles. The small transport carried Maeror and her escort into the swamp moon's hazy atmosphere and over the horizon, until the Harbringer was out of sight and the cultivation facilty came into view.

Twice the size of your average star cruiser, the facilty glided above the jungle constantly due to it being to big to land anywhere on the surface of the swamp moon. Within the fifty or so levels, hundreds of sith masters spent their days training warriors for the sith army. Men and women found to be force sensitive, jedi padawans and knights seduced by promises of eternal power, or children, taken from their families on worlds pillaged by the sith, like Maeror's apprentice had been so long ago.

They were met by a collective of several Sith masters as the shuttle entered the hanger bay.

"Lady Maeror," one said, bowing his head slightly as Maeror descended the exit ramp. He stood a good foot taller than Maeror, and had a head of short brown hair. His dark eyes and pale lips held a grim expression, as if he was annoyed with addressing Maeror as 'Lady', but the superior sith payed him no notice.

"Mendax," Darth Maeror replied, not returning the bow of the head. "I believe you have a gift for me." it wasn't a question, but more of a demand. Mendax nodded again and gestured for her to follow him from the hanger bay, the other sith masters trailing closely behind.

"He's quite the warrior," Mendax explained as they traversed the facility. "His technical ability with a lightsaber is remarkable. In fact, he may be the most talented Juyo practioner I've ever trained." Maeror smirked. Juyo was an extremely difficult form of lightsaber combat to master, as it drew excessive amounts of energy from the wielder. She herself was a practioner of form two, Makashi, which played to her natural athleticism.

"During his last outing to Yavin Four's surface, he survived seventeen days without fresh water or food before we came for him," Maeror nodded slightly.

_This is a good sign,_ she thought to herself. Every few months, sith prospects were dropped by shuttle in one of Yavin four's many swamps for a week; Those that survived, by either lasting the seven days or reaching the lone sith shuttle pad and making it off early, were to progress in their training. Those that didn't were often forgotten. It was a way the trainers weeded out the weak from the strong and recognise those who they should focus their attention on.

"And what of his connection to the force?" Maeror said quietly as they descended a service ramp in the dueling pits at the bottom of the facility.

Mendax grinned now. "His affinity for the darkside is unmatched," Mendax stopped at a portal and gestured for Maeror to enter, leading the two, their sith envoy, and Maeror's half-dozen guards onto a viewing platform looking out over a training ground. "In the entire facilty, from the new recruits to the most experienced of our Acolytes, not one can match his abilities."

"Good," Maeror nodded. "It seems you've outdone yourself this time Lord Mendax."

The Sith Lord bowed his head at the commendation. "You honor me Lady Maeror. I hope that my success with your apprentice will sway you into putting in a good word for me with the council?,"

Maeror's anger flared for a moment. She could tell Mendax sensed it. "You should be honoured to even serve the Sith empire Mendax," She said coldly. "Do _NOT_, ever, try and force the praise of a council member, let alone me,"

"I u-understand my lady," Mendax bowed and backed away. "I meant no disrespect."

Maeror ignored his apology. "Bring him out."

Mendax bowed again, then signaled to one of the other masters, who entered a code on a keypad built into the viewing platform's barrier. The sounds of grinding gears within the walls grew louder and louder, until a panel within the far wall opened up and a young man walked out of the darkness within, dressed in the red and black dueling leathers Sith trainee's often wore.

"Lady Maeror, allow me to introduce Acolyte number 6399."

The young acolyte raised his head. His face was deathly pale; no doubt a symptom of living in the cold of space for a decade. He watched the half dozen sith above him with orange eyes, flecked with streaks of crimson and black. His hair, blacker than the emptiness of space, was long enough to trail down past his ears, and was slicked back to keep it neat.

Maeror's eyes met the Acolyte's, and they spent a few moments watching each other. "Begin." she muttered. The master with the keypad entered another combination, and more gears whined within the walls.

Mendax reached beneath his cloak and produced a lightsaber, crafted of silver alloy with an ebony grip. It was slightly curved, a crafting techicality often used on lightsaber's especially made for dueling, and featured a series of sith runes carved into the grip. "We don't allow trainees to carry their blades until they're accepted," the sith tossed the hilt into the arena. "Wouldn't want them getting any ideas about striking back at us."

The acolyte, who's eyes hadn't left Maeror, didn't move to his weapon. "Why won't he start?"

"We have trained to him to only move when you give him permission."

Maeror smirked again. She like the idea of her apprentice having no free will, made them easier to control. She leant out over the barrier and said loudly "Begin".

The apprentice leapt towards the lightsaber before she had even started the second syllable. He took up the silver hilt and ignited it just as a series of battle droids began filing out of another hiden doorway in the arena wall, taking stance. The trainer controlling all the action below entered another code on the keypad, and the droids began opening fire on the acolyte, who in turn, began deflecting the neon red bolts with his crimson saber.

A quick flourish deflected a trio of bolts into the leading droid, sending it to the floor and leaving it a sparking pile of robotics. He jumped towards the next battle droid and brought his blade through it's chassis, cutting it clean in half. Another flourish and he span on his heels to sever the blaster arm of another.

Maeror could sense the anger within the boy grow as he performed a flawless tuck over another droid and take out it's legs. It seemed to flow through him as naturally as water down a stream. This was good...no, it was magnificent. Anger fueled the darkside, it made one stronger. The problem with most Acolytes, and sometimes even a full fledged Sith, was that they never truely embraced their anger and hate, and it held them back. Of course, many Sith learned to accept their emotions over time, but that often took years, sometimes decades, and by then they barely had the physical prowess to become a superior Sith.

This boy was barely sixteen, and had already achieved a state of mind few Sith could over a lifetime. Maeror knew already that this boy would turn the tide of the war completely in their favour. And, best of all, he belonged to her and her alone.

With an upwards slash, the acolyte finished off the last of the dozen droids. It had taken less than twenty seconds. Maeror took notice. She herself could barely make twenty seconds.

The acolyte deactivated his lightsaber, walked back to the place he was standing mere moments earlier, and stood looking up at them. "What is your decision my lady?"

Maeror let what she'd just seen swim through her head. It was impossible to deny that he was impressive, but he had fought droids with predetermined battle plans built into their memory banks, not human opponents, who could change tactics in midst of battle. "How does he do in a duel?"

Mendax stood silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. "I could bring in a fellow Acolyte if you wish to see him duel?"

"No," Maeror said without a thought. "If what you said is true, not a single trainee on board can match him...I'd like to see him face someone of skill."

Mendax mouthed a few words before finally getting the sound out. "My lady, I'm afraid we don't have any other resources on board to put on such a display."

This annoyed Maeror. Again, her anger flared and she could sense Mendax's fear. He was weak.

"You fight him," she said after a moment. Mendax seemed startled.

"M-my lady?,"

"I'm ordering you to duel him."

The trainer stumbled with his words a few more times. "My lady, I'm sure Master Se'Duum would be a better opponent," he gestured to a twi'lek with a scarred Lekku twirled around his neck. "After all, he is our highest ranked saber master..."

"I said you Mendax," she snapped, turning her head to face the man. A sly smile appeared on her lips. "If you disarm him, maybe I _will_ put in your name for a placement on the council."

This made the man's eyes widen. He nodded and looked down to the apprentice, whose eyes hadn't left Maeror even though she wasn't looking at him. "As you wish my lady."

Mendax unhooked his cloak at the neck, and drew it from his shoulders. He himself was clad in a black leather dueling suit, a armoured breast plate covering his chest. He leapt over the barrier and landed in front of the apprentice, igniting his own lightsaber and circling his opponent until they stood horizontal to the viewing platform. The apprentice hadn't moved.

"Begin."

The acolyte ignited his blade and leapt at Mendax, swinging violently at the master. Mendax was skilled, and he managed to parry many of the apprentice's strikes before taking the offensive himself. The problem with that tactic though, was the fact that the apprentice was a practioner of Juyo, the most violent and assertive of ligthsaber styles. This meant that even if Mendax got the upper hand for a moment, her apprentice wouldn't accept his oppponent taking control of the battle, and increase his aggressiveness until he took control of the bout again.

This, of course, happened, and the boy quickly overpowered Mendax, forcing him back to the arena's wall until their sabers met in a lock and they stalled, forcing against each other with all their might. It was a brief lull, then suddenly, the apprentice span to the left and swung down. severing through Mendax's lead arm. The sith trainer let out a cry and fell to his knees, his arm and saber landing on the floor a foot away from him.

The apprentice walked around to stand behind Mendax's whining form, his blade still glowing bright red. "What is your will, my master?" he said, his voice quiet yet strong.

Mendax looked up at Maeror, who in turn looked down at him. "Call him off my lady," the wounded sith demanded, his voice laced with pain and shame. "He's proven his worth."

Maeror smirked."Boy," she called. "What is your name?"

The apprentice looked up at her. "I have none, my master."

"I see. Well, you do possess unmatchable potential. The darkside flows through you like none I've ever known. Your anger is unyielding, boiling even...yes...from this moment on, you shall be known as Aestus the angry, do you understand?"

"You honor me, my lady."

"Good...Now kill him."

Mendax barely had time to look up at Maeror before Aestus drove his lightsaber through his neck, severing the Sith's head. The body fell limp on the durasteel floor as Mendax's head rolled away as the acolyte now known as Aestus deactivated his saber.

"Master Se'Duum," Maeror said, not taking her eyes off her new apprentice. "You are now the head of this facility. If anyone asks why, say Mendax defied me."

Se'Duum bowed. "You have my thanks, my lady."

"Good," the Sith lady turned on her heels and walked from the viewing platform, through her Sith, some of which were shocked by Mendax's death. "Get my apprentice travel ready and have him brought to the hangar." With one more look at Aestus, who watched Mendax's dead body with an emotionless face, Maeror turned and left the room.

0ooo0oooo0ooo0ooo0


End file.
